


Not My Color (But It Is Yours)

by lanalucy



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s01e11 Colonial Day, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2160981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanalucy/pseuds/lanalucy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The President changes Kara's mind about what to wear to the dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not My Color (But It Is Yours)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Singerdiva01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singerdiva01/gifts).



> This came about because while beta-reading for one of my village of reader/writers, we mused about Laura feeling nostalgic and missing her sisters, and spending a little girl time with Kara. It's not quite what I thought it would be, but it's good enough. Laura gets a little tiny bit of girl time, and Kara gets to feel like a girl for maybe the last time ever.
> 
> Many, many thanks to my betas newnumbertwo and laura_mayfair, who've been exceptionally patient with me and my mostly-absent muse over the last couple of months. Thank you both so much for being here for me.

“You asked to see me, Madame President?” Kara stood in the doorway of Laura’s private quarters on Colonial One.

“I did. I wondered, with everything you’ve had to handle today, if you’d have time for primping for the dance later.”

“Wasn’t really thinking about it. Figured I’d just wear my uniform.”

“Oh, no, no, no!” Laura exclaimed. “Come in. Sit.”

Kara moved into the room, stopping near Laura’s desk. She gestured toward a flash of teal on the couch. “That what you’re going to wear?”

“No. So not my color, Kara. May I call you Kara?”

“You’re the President. You can call me whatever you want.” Kara slouched against the edge of the desk.

Laura walked over to the couch and picked up the hangar with the dress on it. She watched Kara’s eyes take in the dress. Even if she hadn’t thought about dressing up, she wanted to. And for reasons of her own, Laura wanted to help her. “This...Kara, is for you, if you want to wear it.” 

Kara’s eyes lit up, then her face fell again. “It’s beautiful. But I don’t have anything that would do that dress justice. Gods. I haven’t even worn a dress in ages. Not since Zak and I…”

Laura wisely kept silent, waiting for Kara to come back from wherever that memory had taken her. When Kara’s eyes regained focus, she said, “I wasn’t sure of your sizes. I had to have Billy ask the quartermaster.” She and Kara shared a laugh.

“I’m sure that was an awkward conversation,” Kara said wryly, one corner of her mouth turning up.

“Poor Billy. The things he’s had to do as my aide. I’m sure most of them weren’t in the job description.” She smiled at Kara. “Now. How about we see if this dress fits you?”

Kara hesitated. “Are you sure? You don’t have to go out of your way for me, you know.”

“Kara. After talking with Bill,” she cleared her throat delicately, “Commander Adama, that is, I realized that handling all the security with Captain Apollo would likely leave you little time for getting ready. And I thought,” she refrained from smiling, “that you might like to do the whole dress, makeup, hair thing. Show all these people that while Starbuck is a more than competent Viper pilot, in the habit of saving all our asses on a daily basis, Kara Thrace is all woman.”

The tiniest of smiles flicked across Kara’s face. Just as she’d thought. Captain Apollo wouldn’t know what had hit him. “I’ve got someone on their way to help with the hair and makeup,” Kara opened her mouth, probably to protest, so she held up a hand, “but only if you need it. I’m sure you know exactly how to doll yourself up when you need to.”

“Truthfully, Madame President, I haven’t worn anything but a uniform or sweats for…a very long time. I guess, if they’re going to be here anyway, I could use the help. Maybe.”

Laura smiled and clasped her hands together. “Perfect! And you can call me Laura.”

Kara shook her head.

“I insist. One-time only. Just for today. If we’re going to get ourselves all fancied up together, it’s first names only.”

Kara nodded, giving in.

“I’ve put a towel out for you - just in case you hadn’t showered since the fracas at the bar. And a robe. I know nudity is not really an issue for you, but if you need it, it’s there.” She turned to take a seat on the couch.

Kara looked startled, but nodded. “Hadn’t even thought about that.” She turned her head to sniff her shoulder. “Yeah. Shower. Good idea.” She gave Laura a crooked grin and stood up.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A couple of hours later, Billy returned from errands President Roslin had sent him on. Hearing laughter from behind her closed curtain, he peeked carefully through a crack. His boss was bent over giggling at something the woman with her had said. When the woman turned he realized her cackle should have given her away; he’d heard it enough times over the wireless when President Roslin listened to the pilots flying CAP.

Then he noticed what she was wearing and he nearly swallowed his tongue. He thought ruefully it was a good thing he was hung up on Dee. He was pretty sure "Captain Apollo" could take him with both hands tied behind his back if Billy even thought about looking at Kara Thrace cross-eyed.

He stepped back, straightened his suit, and knocked on the jamb. “Madame President? Your Marine escort is here.”


End file.
